The Sacking of Severus Snape
by qui-quae-quod
Summary: Headmistress Granger calls Professor Snape into her office to discuss complaints about his teaching methods. Pretty much a silly & fluffy PWP... perhaps a bit of plot snuck its way in. One-shot. Written for Tonksinger during the winter '08 SSHG Exchange


Of course, none of this belongs to me. Just a bit o'fun. The story title comes from a chapter title in Deathly Hallows.

A/N: This was written for the SSHG Exchange as a gift for the lovely tonksinger. It couldn't have been done without the help of the wonderful wywrite and sc010f, who were crazy enough to take on the challenge of betaing my first attempt at writing smut. Thank you both so very, very much!

Warnings for some sexual content and whatnot. This is not my usual PG13 fare.

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_**The Sacking of Severus Snape**_

"Ah, Professor Snape, punctual as always," Hermione said, ushering Severus into her office.

"Headmistress," he acknowledged with a slight nod of his head.

"Lemon sherbert?" Before he could protest, she grabbed a candy dish from her desk and held it directly under his nose.

"Good gods, no," he said, pushing it away with a single finger. She shrugged and plopped it unceremoniously onto the corner of her desk with a 'thud', oblivious as candy rolled from the dish and onto the floor. She moved around her desk and sank into her chair, gesturing that he should sit as well.

"Do you have any idea why I called this meeting, Severus?" She sounded nervous. He folded his arms and frowned.

"I have an idea, Headmistress, but please, do tell."

"Where to start?" she sighed.

"At the beginning I suppose, unless you want this to be a short meeting, in which case, you may start at the end." He leaned forward in his chair slightly and narrowed his eyes, allowing a smirk to pull at his lips. "Of course I prefer the latter, for obvious reasons."

She glared, but didn't respond. Instead, she pulled a bottle of Odgen's Finest from the bottom drawer of her desk and Summoned two glasses. Pouring more than a modest amount into each, she scoffed at his arched eyebrow.

"This is as much for you as it is for me," she said, holding one of the glasses out to him. After eyeing it for a moment, he took it with an exaggerated sigh and drank it in a single gulp. Hermione gently tapped her fingers on the desk and sipped her Firewhisky slowly, studying Severus with a wary expression.

"Well, get on with it. I don't think you called me here for your entertainment." After a slight hesitation, he curled a lip mischievously. "Then again, I do know that being locked away in the head's tower can be rather…lonely." He leaned forward and put a hand on her wrist. "Are you _lonely_, Miss Granger?" She pulled her arm away and choked on her whisky, sending a large dribble down her chin.

"That's Headmistress Granger," she spat, wiping her chin with a swipe of her sleeve. "Besides, this tower is no more lonely than the dungeons, I'm sure." She grabbed the whisky bottle and refilled their glasses with an angry slosh.

"Touché," he acknowledged, taking his glass and tipping it in her direction. Rolling her eyes, she took a deep breath and pushed a stack of parchments across the desk to him.

"Here, read these."

"What are they?" he asked, taking the top sheet and glancing it over. "Oh."

"Oh? That's all you have to say?" He nodded and returned the parchment to the stack. Hermione snatched it up and held it in front of him.

"A.S.S. - Alliance for the Sacking of Snape," she said, shaking the parchment in his face. "There's an entire alliance of parents that want me to sack you!"

"And do _you_ want to sack me?"

"I've been tempted at times, believe me," she ground out, lowering the parchment. "But no, I don't want to fire you. They have some valid points though, your teaching methods border on cruel. You mock, you humiliate, you intimidate. You're the worst sort of teacher there is! I thought you were bad when I was a student, but apparently-and I didn't think it possible-you've become worse."

"No, the students are simply more accustomed to being coddled than they used to be. Not surprising, considering they're being raised by," he looked her up and down, "your lot."

"My lot? What's that supposed to mean?"

"You think just because the Dark Lord fell that life is all chocolate and kittens," he grumbled, "but in reality, Dark Lord or no, life isn't fair. I'm simply making sure these children aren't deluded by their delusional parents."

"Don't you think that we, of all people, understand that life isn't fair? How many loved ones did we lose? How close were we to seeing our world destroyed? We know that life isn't fair, Severus, and we've accepted it. We just want the children to be happy, normal. To give them something we didn't have."

Severus stood and placed both hands on Hermione's desk, leaning toward her with his teeth slightly bared. He held her eyes, feeling a slight thrill that she didn't flinch or pull away from him.

"What would you have me do?" His voice was a low hiss. "It seems you've forgotten I teach Defence Against the Dark Arts. Shall I hold their hands and tell them there is nothing to be afraid of? That there is no Darkness out there? Because there is, Hermione. There will always be Dark, and it will always lurking on the outskirts of your perfect little lives." He pushed himself from her desk and began pacing restlessly behind his chair. At the feel of a hand on his shoulder, he spun to find Hermione forcing his glass into his hand.

"Sit. Drink." He scowled and took a step away from her. "Please, Severus." He didn't relax, but accepted the glass and sat stiffly.

"My, my, Headmistress. One would think you were trying to get me drunk." When she didn't reply, he looked at her sharply. "You _are_ trying to get me drunk."

"No, not drunk," she sighed, sitting in her chair again. "I suppose I just wanted to try and lighten you up a bit." Planting her elbows on the desk, she rested her chin in her hands and looked at him, her lips curved into a tired frown. "Why are you still here, Severus?"

"Because you haven't dismissed this meeting yet, obviously," he snorted.

"You know that's not what I meant," she snapped. "Why are you here at Hogwarts? And don't try to say that it's because you like teaching. We both know that's not the case."

He took a deep draw from his drink but didn't answer.

"It's been nearly twenty years since Voldemort's demise and still, I can see you're not happy," she said, her tone soft and unsure.

"You're one to talk, Hermione," he mumbled into his glass. "I could ask you the same. Why are you here?"

"This isn't about me."

"But perhaps my answer is the same as yours."

"And that answer is…?" she prompted.

"Where else would I be?"

"Someplace where you can be happy?"

"Ah, and you presume to know that I'm not happiest here?"

"Are you happiest here?" she asked without looking at him.

"Yes."

"You are?" She seemed genuinely surprised by his answer. Her question hung heavy in the silent air until Severus finally cleared his throat.

"You're doing a fine job of getting me drunk, Headmistress," he announced, trying to change the subject. He reached across the desk for the Firewhisky and after replenishing their drinks, he lifted his glass in toast. "Here's to miserable old fools," he said, clinking his glass with Hermione's.

"We really are miserable old fools, aren't we?" she chuckled after she sipped her drink.

"You might be a miserable fool, Hermione, but you certainly aren't old," he said, his tone light and not quite mocking.

"Well, as I don't think of you as old either I purpose a new toast. Here's to miserable fools who are certainly not old," she said, smiling as she clinked her glass against his.

"Hear, hear," he mumbled into his glass. They lapsed into silence again, neither looking at the other.

"Should I sack you?" Hermione whispered at last.

"Not yet," he answered, glancing at her just as a small, but pleased smile flashed across her face.

"Will you at least make an effort to improve your teaching methods?"

"No."

"You're not going to make this easy, are you? You do understand that I need to take some sort of corrective action, or I'll be the one that is sacked?" She kept her eyes on her glass and swirled the liquid at the bottom. He could see that she was nervous again. He sighed.

"Do your worst, Headmistress." He threw back the rest of his drink and smacked the glass down on the table with finality. Mimicking his actions, she finished her own whisky and fished a folder from a desk drawer.

"This," she said, tapping her fingers on the folder, "is a counselling report. It documents that we've discussed the complaints about your teaching and outlines the course of action we'll be taking to correct it."

"A counselling report," he stated, as he pulled the folder from her fingers.

"Yes. I need you to read it, and if you are agreeable, you sign it." He quickly scanned the document.

"I see why you plied me with Firewhisky," he mumbled, reading from the parchment. "I have to agree to short-term and long-term goals set by you. I have to take a class on modern magical teaching methods-"

"-which I'll take as well," she interrupted.

"As though that makes the prospect more palpable. I also have to agree to a weekly meeting, yet again with you, during which I'll be receiving a written performance evaluation."

"That's correct."

"And do I want to know what a 'progress chart' is?" he asked, narrowing his eyes over the parchment at Hermione.

"Probably not, but I suppose I'll have to tell you nonetheless," she said, flicking her wand. A small folded sheet of parchment emerged from the folder Severus was holding and hovered in the air beside the desk facing them. She flicked her wand again and it unfolded until it was as large as the posters depicting different forms of torture that accented his Defence classroom.

"I believe I'd prefer to feign ignorance on this particular corrective action," he muttered, eyeing the large grid-lined parchment with suspicion.

"Nonsense," she said, waving a dismissive hand at him. "It's quite simple really. Each week after your evaluation, your progress for the week will be recorded here, like this." She tapped her wand on the chart and a dot adorned with his scowling face appeared well below the bottom line. "Hmm, no progress yet I see."

"Apparently not," he said, glaring Hermione with distaste. "Is this really necessary?"

"Yes," she said shortly. He had no doubt she was enjoying this at his expense. He crossed his arms and frowned at her. She smiled sweetly and continued, "After each meeting, I have to submit a report to the Board of Governors. If, in their opinion, no progress is made in nine weeks time, I will have no say in the status of your employment at Hogwarts."

"I see," he said, closing the folder but not putting it down. "And if I don't agree to these terms?"

"Then I'm afraid I have no choice but to sack you."

"Or?"

"We'll both be out of a job."

"You are by far the most annoying, infuriating, and generally exasperating woman I've ever met," Severus growled. "Yet, despite all of that, if they sacked you, I'd resign, current circumstances not withstanding." He held the folder out to her.

"Why?" she asked, trying to pull the folder from his hand, tugging when he didn't release it.

"Because this would no longer be the place that I'm happiest," he said, his grip still firm on the folder. She stared at him unblinking for a moment before shaking her head.

"What do you mean by that?"

He smirked at her shocked expression and released the folder. Deciding it was now or never, he stood and walked around the desk, stopping behind Hermione's chair. He ignored portraits' sudden whispers and Dumbledore's beaming smile.

"I'll ask you again - do you want to sack me?" He spoke each word slowly and with articulate care. The sound of Hermione's nervous gulp bounced off of the walls.

"No," she said. He put his hands on the back of her chair and leaned down toward her.

"And why is that?" he whispered.

"Because I…" her words faltered as he pulled her hair gently back and to the side. He leaned in again, this time so close that his lips nearly brushed her ear.

"Do you want to know what I think?" She nodded slowly. "I think you don't want to sack me for the same reason I don't want to resign." He straightened as she shifted in her chair to look up at him, her face now red.

"And what is that reason?" she asked. He moved to the side of her chair and offered her his hand. She accepted it and stood, looking intrigued.

"Walk with me," he said, letting her hand drop as he looked pointedly at the portraits that surrounded them - all wearing expressions of deep curiosity.

He turned and strode out of the room, amused when he looked back to see that she followed with a slightly dazed expression.

It wasn't until they reached the dungeons that she asked where they were going.

"To my office, obviously," he said, turning to look at her just in time to see her nose crinkle. "You don't like my office?"

"It's not my favourite place, no. All those jars of floating…bits are something out of a nightmare." They stopped in front of his office door. "It's cold and too damp - I mean, you'd think the entirety of Hogwarts' ghostly inhabitants lived in there. Oh, and the smell! I don't know if it's the armadillo bile or what, but…" she pinched her nostrils and wafted her other hand in front of her nose.

"Are you quite finished?" She looked up and seemed almost surprised to see him there. Colour quickly spread across her cheeks.

"Er, yes, I suppose so," she mumbled to the floor. "I got a little carried away there, didn't I?"

"_In vino veritas_, Headmistress."

"It takes more than wine to get the truth out of me Severus Snape."

"Yes, apparently it takes Firewhisky," he said flatly. "If not my office, do you think you'll find my quarters acceptable?"

"I'm not sure, I've never seen them." She frowned, obviously annoyed that there was a part of the castle that she, as headmistress, hadn't seen. "If I find things too uninhabitable, I'll be sure to let you know."

"I have no doubt that you will," he muttered.

They continued down the dark hall until he flung open a door with a flick of his wand. He nodded at her to enter. He muttered a quick _lumos_, and the room lit up. He watched as she put his meagre sitting room under scrutiny. He'd never given his sparse furnishing a second thought until now. He cleared his throat to speak just as he saw her eyes widen as she glimpsed the massive book collection that was partially obscured by the door to his bedroom.

"You keep your books in the bedroom, Severus?"

"Not much room in here, as you can see," he said, feeling rather nervous about having Hermione in his quarters. "Please, be my guest and peruse while I get our drinks." She nodded and walked into the room as though in a trance. Shaking his head, he pulled a bottle of Firewhisky and two glasses from a cabinet. He poured their drinks and took a deep breath before joining her in the bedroom.

He stood in the doorway for a moment and observed her lost in the jungle of books that wrapped around nearly the entire room. His breath caught as she reached up and gently brushed her fingertips along the spine of a book. He allowed his eyes to travel from wrist to shoulder to neck, stopping on her lips. He watched, mesmerised as she mouthed some of the titles in a silent whisper.

"You know," he said, stepping into the room and causing Hermione to start slightly, "it had never occurred to me that I might use the books to lure women into my bedroom." He handed her a glass with a devilish smirk playing on his lips.

"And I'm sure you've used that line on each and every woman that's found herself lured into your dungeon lair," she said, taking a sip of her drink. He shook his head.

"No, I'm afraid that other than Minerva McGonagall and Poppy Pomfrey, you're the only woman to see my Hogwarts abode, and they've certainly never seen _this_ particular room."

She smiled and rolled her eyes. They stood side by side facing the bookcase, silently sipping their drinks and stealing furtive glances at each other as they feigned interest in the titles in front of them.

"So," she murmured after a moment, her voice soft, "I believe I followed you down here to find out exactly why it is I don't want to sack you." She traced a finger around the rim of her glass, a small smile pulling at her lips. When their eyes met, Severus drew a shaky breath and took a step toward her, setting his glass down on the shelf next to him.

"Ah, yes," he breathed, reaching to take Hermione's whisky from her hand. He let his fingers linger over hers for a moment before he took her glass and set it on the shelf next to his. "Do you not know?"

He raised his hand and brushed his fingertips along her cheek. He began to pull his hand away, but Hermione captured his fingers and held them to her face again, her eyes never leaving his.

"I know how I feel, but I didn't dare to hope the feeling was mutual," she whispered leaning into his touch.

Slowly, he began to caress her skin with a thumb. She reached for his other hand and brought it to her other cheek, closing her eyes as he began to explore her face with his fingers. He traced her cheekbones and marvelled at how soft her skin felt beneath his rough fingertips.

He skimmed every plane - her eyelids, her nose, her eyebrows, and finally, her lips. His hand moved beneath her chin and tilted her face up toward his. She smiled slightly, but didn't open her eyes.

His fingers travelled down her neck and came to rest on her shoulders. He leaned down, stopping just as his nose pressed into her cheek and his lips brushed against hers. She leaned in, but he pulled his head back slightly and wrapped an arm around her waist to pull her closer. The moment she opened her eyes to look at him, he kissed her gently, sighing as she relaxed into him.

It had been a long time since he had kissed a woman, but as he drew her tongue into his mouth, he was surprised at how sure he felt about kissing her. He felt her press on his shoulder slightly, but didn't realise that she had been walking him backward until the backs of his knees hit the bed. Instinctively, he sat and tried to pull her down with him.

"Not yet," she whispered, as she stepped away from him. Before he could respond, she began to unbutton the collar of her robes, her eyes holding his with an intensity that tugged at his chest.

With her robes undone but still draped on her shoulders, she stepped forward and began to undo his, her fingers brushing his skin as she did so. He couldn't help but to shiver as she began to place kisses along his jaw and down toward his scarred neck.

"Hermione," he breathed, "wait."

She stopped and pulled back slightly to look at him.

"My neck -"

"- is quite possibly the most delectable thing my lips have ever touched," she interrupted, leaning in to continue unbuttoning his high collar.

"No, wait," he said again, his voice firmer.

"Don't be silly," she said, insistently pulling his robes away from his skin and kissing his jaw again.

"Hermione…"

"A scar isn't enough to scare me away, Severus Snape." She worked her way to his neck, and he groaned in both defeat and pleasure as her lips explored his marred flesh. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her onto the bed with him, lifting her up so that he could kiss her comfortably.

They lay side by side kissing, each tangling a hand into the other's hair. She surprised him by aggressively throwing a leg over his hip to pull him closer, moaning when she felt his hardness press into her.

"You're about to be sacked, Snape," she breathed against his lips. He smiled as she pushed him onto his back and straddled his torso.

"By all means, sack away," he said as she slid her robes down her shoulders. She arched her back as he brushed a hand up her stomach. He moved it down slowly and began to toy with the lacy hem of her black knickers against her hip. "My, my, Headmistress, I do believe I would have enjoyed your staff meetings much more if I had known you wore such racy undergarments." He smirked and cupped her breast, running his thumb over her nipple.

"Hmm," she sighed, as she leaned into his touch. "Believe me, these are not my usual delicates."

"Indeed?" She nodded and looked down at him, her eyes sparkling in amusement.

"What you see here," she said, as she reached behind her back to unsnap her bra, "is the product of a very hasty," she pulled the straps from her shoulders but kept an arm pressed on her chest to keep the fabric in place, "extremely sneaky," she swatted his hand away as he tried to touch an almost exposed breast, "and dare I say rather clever last-minute transfiguration spell. It hadn't occurred to me that I should have dressed for _this_ type of sacking until I found myself in your bedroom. I transfigured them while you were getting our drinks. I'm just relieved they turned out to be lacy and black. I wasn't entirely sure what they'd look like."

She removed the bra and dropped the flimsy thing on his face.

"Incredible," he gasped through the fabric, and he could see by Hermione's smile that she was quite aware he didn't mean the spell.

He pulled the bra from his face and flung it carelessly across the room as she scooted back and began to undo his robes the rest of the way. He eagerly shrugged them from his shoulders and leaned off of the bed to pull them from underneath him. He jumped when she snapped the waistband of his y-fronts playfully.

"I'll teach you the incantation," she murmured, sitting on his thighs and skimming a finger around his navel. "I can see you would benefit from it as much as I." He glanced down and felt a flare of embarrassment. They were old, greying, and tattered. He cleared his throat uncomfortably.

"Um, I wasn't dressed for a sacking of any sort," he said, feeling panic as she moved off of his legs and to his side. He was about to plead with her not to leave over his questionable undergarments when she straddled him again, this time with her back to him. He almost whimpered at the sight of her barely-clad and plump rear resting on his torso. He immediately reached both hands out and began to run them up and down the full length of her back. His breathing hitched when he felt her begin to toy with his waistband again.

"No matter," she said lightly, "I prefer the object of my sacking to be in nude, as it were." She leaned forward on her knees to pull the offending undergarment down his legs. The enticing view this gesture treated him to was enough to make his body stiffen and his breathing to stop all together. He knew she sensed this sudden change when she froze with her bottom still in the air. She looked over her shoulder in concern and began to move off of him.

"No," he managed to rasp, "please, don't move." With shaking hands, he reached forward and caressed the curve of her buttocks, down the back of her thighs, and slowly up again. With each stoke of his open hand, his thumbs moved closer together and were soon skimming over the damp fabric of her knickers.

"Severus," she breathed, "can I move now?" As though to answer her question, he finally pressed his thumbs against her core, causing her to moan. She leaned into his hand, bringing herself closer to his face. With one hand, he pulled the fabric of her knickers aside and brushed his other along her curls.

"I might have a heart attack," he whispered, and her quiet sigh told him that she could feel his breath on her sex. Feeling suddenly impatient, he took the flimsy lace in both hands and ripped it, feeling the knickers drop to his chest. He lowered his arms to prop himself up on his elbows to press his face into her, but just as he was about to taste her, he felt her wrap a warm hand around his cock. He didn't have a chance to moan before her lips were on him. He could do nothing but to collapse on the bed mumble pleasured nonsense.

When he felt her chuckle around him, he realised his reaction to her touch probably made him seem utterly pathetic. Knowing he couldn't have that, he gripped her hips with both hands and pulled her down onto his face. Before she could protest, he drew her clit into his mouth and began to suckle it, and immediately, he felt himself slide from her mouth as she cried out. This time, it was his turn to chuckle. She seemed to take that as a challenge and with an almost feral growl, she began to work him with her lips again.

Almost frantically, they went at each other, and with each intense moment, their ministrations grew more competitive. As he began to probe her in earnest with a finger, his tongue still on her clit, she began to carefully explore and cup his balls with one hand. Her breathing sped up and she released him from her mouth to wrap her hand firmly around his shaft.

He emulated her, lowering his head to the bed and gently rolling her clit between his thumb and forefinger. Moaning, she began to cover his sac with wet kisses, gently pulling them into her mouth. In turn, he leaned up on an elbow and began to penetrate her with his tongue. She pumped him faster as he began to nibble her clit with a renewed fervour.

It was through sheer stubbornness that he kept his control intact. She was so wet and slick and warm against his fingers and lips, but he held his building climax and focused on the delicious whimpers he was eliciting from her. The rhythm of her hand on his cock seemed to slacken a bit and she began to quiver, her moans taking on a desperate tone. It wasn't until she began to scream her orgasm did he allow himself to let go, her name escaping his lips over and over. He could do nothing but let the feeling wash over him as she collapsed on top of him, and for an indeterminable amount of time, they lay in a heap, both gasping for air.

Eventually, she rolled off of him and crawled up his side to lay her head in the crook of his shoulder. He began to tuck her damp hair behind her ears, gently smoothing it and playing with her curls, as they stared at each other. Severus allowed a smile to pull at his lips.

"I believe I won," he whispered, feeling triumphant and rather smug that he'd made her reach orgasm first. Her brow furrowed and he was surprised to see that she actually seemed to be annoyed about it.

"Yes, you did," she admitted. "But you know, I don't like losing. You won't win next time, believe me."

"Hmm," he sighed, as she absently traced her fingers up and down his chest. "I don't believe I've ever looked forward to being defeated." She smiled and looked up at him, and he pressed a kiss into her forehead. "So, do the terms of my employment still stand?"

"I'm afraid they do," she said.

"Then I do believe, Headmistress, that I'll be tendering my resignation," he said, stroking her arm. "However, there are conditions to my voluntarily leaving." She propped her head up on her arm and looked at him questioningly.

"Such as?"

"Such as being allowed to take the headmistress to dinner tomorrow night." She smiled.

"I think she could manage that."

"That's only the first condition. I also expect to be allowed to continue to do this-" he leaned in to kissed her tenderly.

"Hmm…no problem there," she murmured.

"And this," he whispered as he began to nibble her neck.

"Severus, you can have anything and everything you want and need from this particular headmistress," she said as she drew his lips to hers again.

"I think I can agree to anything and everything."

"What will you do if you're not teaching?"

"Open a restaurant. Write a book. Learn to play the violin. Take fencing lessons." He looked at her with a fierce expression. "Fall madly in love."

"You want to do all of that?" she asked, her eyes wide in surprise. He shrugged.

"Or none of it." He traced her lips with his fingers. "Though, I think I've been doing the last for some years now."

"I believe we have something in common there." They stared at each other, absently exploring each other's bodies with soft caresses. "You don't have to resign. I can work something out." He shook his head.

"No, I want to," he said. "I'm want to explore life outside of these castle walls. I do hope to do some of the exploring with you." She smiled up at him and brushed his hair away from his face. "Did I mention that you are by far the most annoying, infuriating, and generally exasperating woman I've ever met?"

"Hmm, yes, I think you have," she said, leaning in and pressing her lips to his. "I think Neville's ready to take the reins as head. What do you think?"

"Absolutely not," he replied automatically. He looked down at her, his expression serious. "Unless you mean to leave with me?"

"Of course, you silly wizard."

"I'm no more capable of silliness than Longbottom is of being a headmaster," he grumbled. After a moment, he turned and looked at her with a smirk. "But you know, I think my opinion on Longbottom's capabilities could be swayed with the proper...persuasion."

"Ah, then you're in luck," she said, leaning up and placing a small kiss on his nose. "I just happen to be a very persuasive witch." She smiled and kissed him deeply, not pulling away until he was breathless. "Persuaded?"

"Longbottom will make an acceptable headmaster," he breathed, pulling her closer and relishing in the feel of her skin against his.

"Well then, now that we've agreed on that, I think it's time we returned to the business at hand - I haven't finished sacking you, Professor Snape."

"Ah yes, the sacking. The A.S.S. would not be satisfied with anything but a thorough sacking, Miss Granger." She giggled as he pushed her on her back and hovered above her on his hands.

"That's Headmistress Granger," she corrected, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Now kiss me, you miserable fool."


End file.
